Kin of Jackdaw  The beginning
by Artful-Jackdaw
Summary: This story takes place in London between February 1826 and October 1829 and gives a glimpse into the early childhood of the Artful Dodger, from his birth to a few months before his 4th birthday.  Rated for mentioned violence/ abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** The characters are Dickens of course and the story is mostly orientated on his novel and real history with influence of the one or other musical/movie like Oliver! and the BBC Miniseries of 1985.

Please note that my first language is not English. And thank you very much to my friend Pearl for beta reading.

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**Kin of Jackdaw – **The beginning

The first thing he felt when coming into this world was coldness brushing against his naked skin and two hands, equally cold, holding him. He kicked his little legs in protest and cried loud, after all, what kind of greeting was this towards a fine boy like him?

"This is a loud one!" he heard someone exclaim. "I wonder where he gets such energy from? He is rather a smallish and weak looking baby, isn´t he?"

Another voice, that he liked from the beginning, answered on his behalf, as he himself of course did not know yet, how to speak like grown ups, which is no shame, considering he was only just born.

"´E´s a survivor Lucy! I know ´e is. Please show ´im to me."

The cold hands carried him to the warm voice and laid him down in her equally warm arms. Instantly he felt safe and comforted there and stopped his protest. He yawned and looked up into a beautiful face that, framed in thick black hair, was looking down at him with soft grey eyes and a gentle smile around the lips. He fell in love at once and wished he could stare into these loving eyes forever. Little he knew then, that these eyes would soon dim, leaving him alone in a world that knew no mercy if you happened to be someone dressed in rags and crawling in dirt.

"Don´t get your hopes up to high Elli" the cold hands said and then asked what the little fellow's name would be.

"John" Elli answered. "Like me dear brother, who would´ve been a great man, if ´e would ´ave ´ad the chance to grow up. ´E was so intelligent. I´m sure ´e would ´ave invented somethin´ and become famous. Get Daisy for me please, will you Lucy?"

Lucy left the dark little room, that had nothing inside, but some straw on the ground, an old mattress, that Elli lay on and the two blankets, that covered her. In the only other small room that the family Dawkins lived in sat a girl, around six years old, on a broken wooden chair. She stared anxiously at the door to the enjoining room, waiting impatiently. After all one did not become a big sister every day. Well to be honest, she had been a big sister before, but she had been only three years of age that time herself and could not remember very well the birth of her little sister Lilly. Actually, she couldn't remember Lilly very well since she had only been her big sister for a few weeks. But this time it would be different. She would be the best big sister her new sister or brother could have and help keep her or him alive.

Finally the door opened and old Lucy, who helped many of London's more unfortunate women give birth to their babies, stuck her head out and called Daisy to come to greet her little brother.

Daisy was up in an instant and ran into the room, stopping abruptly just inside the door and tip toeing the rest of the way when she saw the sleeping little bundle in her mother´s arms. She kissed her mother and then also planted a gentle kiss on her new brother´s head, before sitting down and just looking at him. So this was her brother, for whom she had waited forever so long. Finally he was there and she found him the most beautiful baby she had ever seen. He had a small rosy face and a funny little nose that he wrinkled up in his sleep, so that he had a rather cheeky look about him. And on his head he already had some dark hair that was as soft as the feathers on the birds in the cages in the market.

"Me little brother" Daisy whispered. "I´ll always take care of ya." She looked up to see the smiling eyes of her mother resting on her and smiled back before cuddling herself down at her mother's side and closing her eyes. Daisy needed a little sleep herself, after all the excitement of becoming a big sister.

The time passed and against all odds the weak baby boy managed to do what his mother had wished him to do: he survived. There always was too little to eat, so he did not grew very strong, but the love his mother and sister bestowed upon him was enough to keep him blooming nonetheless.

His father was not known. Though sometimes Elli looked at him and tried to remember if he bore any resemblance to one of the many men that she went to bed with during work, but she couldn´t be sure. The boy seemed to have his looks mainly from her. He had black, thick hair and very bright blue-grey eyes that had a mischievous look to them. They were always twinkling with mirth and an intelligence unusual to see in such a young face. The only other that had his expression, that Ellie had known, was her dear brother John, so she was very pleased to have picked his name for her son. However, John Dawkins was not often referred to by his given name. Elli and Daisy mostly just called him "Jack".

The little family lived their poor, hard but nonetheless happy life till the summer following Jack's second birthday, when everything started to change. The reason for this change even had a name. His name was Eric and Elli had fallen head over heals for him, though neither Daisy, nor Jack understood why. Eric was a loud, drunken and violent moron, in Daisy's eyes, and she hated having him move in with them. He was good looking alright and he did tell her mother nice things now and then and brought in some food too. But he liked grabbing Daisy's bum when her mother wasn´t looking and he also enjoyed pushing Jack around and making fun of him, just because he was so small. Jack was terribly scared of him and mostly tried to stay hidden behind his sister´s skirts when Eric was near.

Daisy tried to tell her mother about it but she didn´t seem to want to hear. This was very new to Daisy, because her mother had always had listened to her before, but now she just laughed and asked, if Daisy was a little jealous. She said they should be happy to have found Eric, because it was not easy to find a man who would accept two children that weren´t his and love them like his own. While she said this her eyes looked happier than Daisy had ever seen them before, so she vowed to herself that she would try to like Eric and not mind his "playful" little touches so much anymore. If her mother was happy, she didn´t want to destroy it.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

Summer turned into autumn and autumn turned into winter, coming along with a bitter cold breath blowing through the dirty alleys and through the cracks of the wooden walls of the houses of the poor.

In many of the houses coughing was heard, and often, a somber looking man came to take away the bodies that would never greet another day.

On the 27th of January 1829 the same somber man knocked at the door of the Dawkins family and took away Elli, who had fought hard for many weeks, but lost in the end.

Before she closed her eyes forever she had Eric promise to take care of her children. Then she had pulled Daisy and Jack into a tight embrace. "You´ll be good children, my dears, will you?" she said weakly then kissed them on the forehead. Both of them promised with tears running down their faces, though Jack didn´t truly understand what would happen. He was to young to have any concept of death.

The day after Elli's death Daisy sat in a corner of the room, with Jack on her lap, trying to sooth him. She had to be strong for him, she told herself, but it was so difficult. Jack kept asking after their mother and wanted her to come back. Daisy didn´t know what she could do to take the pain away from him, so she just sat their holding him tightly and singing a lullaby that she often sang to him when it was time for him to sleep.

Eric left the children to their own devices as soon as Ellis body was cold, going off to the pub without a word. He had not been back that night or the next day and though Daisy was scared that she and Jack were alone in the world now, she hoped Eric had left for good. But she wasn´t that lucky. Just one day later Eric stood in the door again, smiling his leering smile that Elli never saw, but Daisy and Jack knew well.

"´Ello, me darlings!" he slurred as he entered the room weaving. "´Ere, I´ve brought ya some food." He held out a dry loaf of bread to them and while Daisy stared, mistrusting him, Jack jumped up to grab the food out of Eric's hand. He was so hungry, that for a moment his hunger overruled the fear he had for this man. As soon as Jack's hand touched the food, Eric grabbed his wrist and pulled him into his arms.

"You´re me sweet little lad, ain´t ya Jacky?" Eric said in a strange tone of voice. "Come, be nice to daddy!" He pressed his dirty unshaven face against the boys who started to kick and shout at him.

Daisy lept up and tried to pull Jack out of his capturer's arms. "Let ´im go! Let ´im go!" she screamed. "You ain´t our daddy! Let ´im go!"

Eric just laughed, and clamping the struggling boy under one arm, he grabbed Daisy´s arm with his free hand and started to pull her to the little room next door.

"Ya both ´ave to comfort me now that your mother ´as left me." He whispered into Daisys ear. "That is just fair ain´t it? After all I fed ya trough the winter. Ya ´ave to pay back a little me darlings. If ya gimme any trouble Daisy I´ll kill this little stinker ´ere, he said threatingly nodding towards the still struggling boy in his arms. An´ you Jack, listen good, the same goes for you if ya don't stop being naughty I´ll take your sis´ away from ya, ya hear me?" Jack did hear him. He grew silent at once and only some small sobs continued to shake his body.

After Eric felt "comforted" enough he fell asleep, leaving the girl weeping and the boy in shocked silence. They were sitting in the dark for hours, not daring to move and not knowing what to do. But suddenly little Jack stood up, took his big sister by the hand and together they crept out of the door onto the cold street that was slowly illuminated by the first rays of morning light.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

Daisy and Jack felt quite lost running around in the streets of London. They tried to beg some food or money from passer-bys, but had little success as everyone was in a hurry to get inside their warm homes or businesses and had no eyes for the freezing children. There were so many such children anyway that some adults thought it better for them to die and thus be relieved of their misery.

After only one week on the streets and on the day when Jack turned three years old the siblings got picked up by the police, who informed them that begging was against the law. Jack was too young to know what that meant but Daisy, at nine years of age, did. She broke into tears and pleaded with the policeman to not send them to prison. He was a kind man with children of his own at home. He showed them mercy and took them to the nearest work house instead.

At first Daisy felt happy when they entered through the big entrance. She had nothing against work if that meant she and Jack would have a shelter from the cold, a bed to sleep in and food in their stomachs. But only ten minutes later her happiness changed into desperation, because what she had not known was that girls and women lived in a separated area from the boys and men. When they pulled Jack, kicking and screaming, out of her arms she fell to her knees, sobbing and begged the overseer again and again to bring back her brother. But it was no use. Rules were rules.

Daisy spent her time in the workhouse pulling oakum with all the other girls and worrying about Jack. After she had calmed down and thought the situation over however she had convinced herself that it was better to be in here separated than out in the cold streets where they probably would freeze to death.

Meanwhile, in the part of the workhouse where the men and boys were, Jack was not thinking about adjusting to his surroundings. He did not work. He hid. When the overseer would catch sight of him, he ran if he could. When the man found him he threw one temper tantrum after the other.

Jack quickly learned running was better than being caught. When he was caught, the overseer beat him and he spent his time crying and sobbing from the blows upon his little back that were supposed to teach him manners.

It didn´t take Jack long to find his way into the women's section of the workhouse and to his sisters side. When she saw his bruised and bloodied back, they left the workhouse on silent feet in the dark of the night never to return. They had been there for seven horrible weeks.

From now on they stayed out of sight of the policemen. Daisy let do Jack the begging, as he was more successful with it, being so young and cute. She was the lookout and kept her eyes open for the police.

This worked well until Daisy fell sick and could not help Jack to get enough money together to keep them from starving. Without Daisy on lookout Jack had twice nearly been caught begging by the police. Therefore the boy decided he had to find another way to get food for Daisy and him. He had observed that there were some older boys who just took food from the nearby market vendors without them noticing. His stomach grumbled as he looked at the stalls and he made a decision. He would go and take some food too. The vendors had plenty of food anyway. They surly would not miss an apple or two or some slices of ham.

Two minutes later he ran off with the booty in his hands. It had been easy, much easier than trying to beg money or food from people passing by. This would be the first time they would have full stomachs in two days. Daisy would be proud of him.

Jack was now able to present something to Daisy every day; not much, but most days she did not feel like eating anyway and when she did, she often threw it up again. Jack tried to steal the nicest food he could find, thinking that perhaps then Daisy would get her appetite back, but it didn´t help much.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

The summer came to an end, the trees had changed their colours and more and more leaves fell tumbling down from their high crowns. A brown haired, freckled boy of maybe ten years leaned against a wall and observed little Jack pilfering fruits from the stalls. "That one's good!" the boy thought to himself and followed the little thief when he left the market place. When he saw the boy vanish under a small bridge and not come out again the observer smiled, turned on his heals and ran off.

The next evening an old man walked by the riverside towards the bridge which was Jack and Daisy's hideout. He wore a long, dirty coat, had a black hat on his red hair and his face was quite ugly, with dark twinkling eyes, a big nose and thin lips that were surrounded by a messy beard the same colour as his hair. He stopped in front of the bridge. One of his boys, Sam, had told him of the little one living under there who he had seen stealing things as easy as if it were nothing. Now Fagin, as the man was called, wanted to have a look for himself. Maybe this boy was just the right addition for his little gang of pickpockets. He could always use lads with talent and when they were still quite young they were easier to train.

Slowly he crept under the bridge, holding a handkerchief over his mouth and nose to fight off the stench that met him. Not far down along the wall he saw rags on the ground. He moved closer and saw that around the rags food was piled up, some seemed weeks old and was moldy, others were fresh. He took a closer look at the rags then stepped back in shock. Just at that moment a child's voice from the entrance of the bridge shouted: "´Ey, get away from ´er, ya old devil! This is our place, ours alone!"

Fagin turned around to stare at the small boy out of whose mouth the words flew. He looked very young indeed, a lot younger than he had expected or was used to train. He was less then one meter tall, barefoot and dressed in clothes so tattered even the word "rags" would have been too fine a word. He was covered in grime, and Fagin could see the lice crawling through the black, matted hair on his head. But he looked at Fagin with eyes full of fire and intelligence. In his hands were some fresh bread and a wallet so well filled, that Fagin could nearly smell the money over the nauseous stench that hung in the air. Sam did well to point this little thief out to me, Fagin thought, imagining all the influence he could have over someone so young.

He went towards the boy, who took a step back and slapped himself on the nose three times in response.

Fagin lifted up an eyebrow in wonder at this antic, then looked back at the rags: "Ours?"

"Yes, ours! This is me and me sisters ´ome and you ain´t welcome ´ere!"

"I see." Fagin nodded. "What is your name boy?"

"Ain't none o' your business, old man!" The boy hurled back at him.

Fagin smiled. He already liked this one.

"Allright." He backed off with his hands raised, palms facing the child. "Listen boy, I can see ya ain´t stupid. The girl that ya bring food to, she´s dead, and I'm sure ya know it. She must o' been dead a good many weeks now."

"She's sleepin'!" Jack shouted back at him, slapping himself again. "Leave us alone! I´m tired too!"

Making his way past the man, while trying to keep as much distance as possible between them, he went to his sister. "I have brought ya some bread and got us some money too. If that ain´t a toffs life, innit Daisy?" he announced proudly, before he lay himself down at her side.

"Ya know she ain´t eating the food ya bring to ´er." tried Fagin again.

"G´ night, Daisy." Jack whispered and closed his eyes ignoring the annoying intruder.

"It´ll be winter soon." Fagin said. "I can offer ya a place to stay."

He waited but no answer was forthcoming.

"´Ow old are ya boy?" Fagin asked, but still he received no answer. "Come on, boy I know ya ain´t sleepin!"

"Am!" Jack retorted and pressed his eyes shut even more tightly than he had done before.

"If ya be asleep, then why is it ya can answer me, eh?" asked Fagin smiling.

"'Cause!"

"Ain´t ya feelin´ lonely ´ere under the bridge? In my ´ome there are other boys, who love playin´ and doin´ pranks. Wouldn´t ya like that my dear? Hm?"

"No."

"There's a hot fire, food and drinks."

"Can feed us fine meself!" Jack spat.

One of my lads saw ya stealin´ yesterday." Fagin continued." ´E said you´re really good at it."

"That's 'cause I am!"

"I could make ya even better!"

"Ain´t possible!"

Fagin chuckled. What a feisty little fellow he was.

"Well think about my offer, m'dear and think about the coming winter. I´ll send someone around to ya tomorrow."

With a grin Fagin left the boy. He had a plan. He wanted this one and he knew just the right person to send to him and convince him to come.

The next evening the door to Fagin's ken opened and twelve year old Nancy entered with the boy from under the bridge holding her hand. "´Ere ´e is Fagin." She tried to shove him towards her mentor, but Jack held tightly onto her hand.

Fagin smiled. "So ya decided to take me up on my offer, my dear? " He took a step towards him, which caused Jack to press himself tighter against Nancy's skirts and again hitting himself with his free hand.

The girl winkled up her nose. "´E stinks!"

Fagin shook his head warningly to silence her, though he himself found the stench that emanated off the boy hard to ignore. That said much, for his nose was used to foul odors living the life he lived and sharing his home with a bunch of street urchins.

"Why don't ya and Nancy sit down at the table, hm? The sausages are ready and the tumblers are filled. Come, come, my dears and get yourselves a seat."

Jack eyed Fagin warily, but he nonetheless ate a fair share of the sausages and drank the gin and water offered to him, till he felt his body warmed and his head swirling. Slowly his eyes began to drop. He fought the sleep for a moment or two, than lost the battle. With a smile of victory Fagin picked him up from his seat and tucked him into one of the many rough beds on the ground. This boy would become a loyal member of his gang, he was sure of it. And though the lad was quite a queer little thing, the old man had the feeling he would turn out very profitable indeed.

**The End**

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**AN:** This is sort of a frame story, but there will be other stories (when I have the time and motivation to write them) that show in some more detail the one or other day in Jacks first years with his mother and Daisy (and Eric) or on the streets. And there will also be continuing stories that show his life with Fagin. All stories that give more detail to this one or continue it, will have the first title „Kin of Jackdaw" with a second individual title following.

And thank you for the reviews! **:)**


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